Opposite Day
by TheNuttyAuthor
Summary: The nations have been pushed to the limits of their sanity by Canada and Japan, England won't stop hitting on France, Germany is afraid of dogs, and nobody knows why America wants to file so much paperwork. AU.  Female China, intentionally OOC nations


Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of _Axis Powers Hetalia_. This is done for fan purposes only, and is meant to show them during Opposite Day.

Author's note: They are _all_ intentionally OOC in this story. Nation names are used.

* * *

One day, during a Meeting of the Nations, America was quite fed up with Japan. The Asian nation, as usual, could not stop interrupting whenever other nations were talking; America had high tolerance for countries who did that—his best friend was England, and Canada was his brother—but Japan just wouldn't shut up. America quite literally could not concentrate on his organic salad and iced herbal tea. Or the Mound of Paperwork that threatened to consume the United Nations.

He was supposed to fill them, after all. It was his job as Official Paperwork Filer.

So America yelled, "Japan! Shut up! Nobody wants to hear about how Toyota is doing until it's your turn to speak!" He scowled at the island nation, and prepared to get the United Nations to Unite against Japan babbling all the time. They'd have to exclude Japan, of course. He'd interrupt the meeting.

Japan was quite hurt at this. He honestly thought he was imparting information on cars that would be useful. So he talked. A lot. Even when Russia was making a speech about how China was such a generous woman—and that everyone was taking advantage of her, so please stop it or he would play folk songs. Again. What Japan had to say was _important_! Didn't they want to hear his opinion?

"Pardon my national importance to the global economy," he snapped at America. America scowled at him, and took a bite of organic salad. It was quite possibly the first thing the other nation had eaten all day, so Japan couldn't blame him for that; America was a workaholic, and tended to lose sleep over writing and filing Paperwork That Nobody Wanted Anything To Do With. Japan, assuming that America wanted to talk about food, smiled at him.

"Hey, want some of my sushi? It's all-natural—don't worry. I checked," said Japan the Unhelpful.

"No thanks. I'm a strict vegan, and the sushi you brought has fish in it. I have to fill out France's request for a restraining order. Something about how England asked to marry him once. It was filed in the 1920s," America replied. He shuddered at the Mound of Paperwork, and glared at the United Nations currently in this room. If they'd just _tried _to fill out and file paperwork, it wouldn't be his problem. He'd just managed to get the stuff from 1492 to 1919 filed, and was now working on the 1920s to 2010. It was quite frustrating to him.

Poor, gentle, harmless Russia stuck his fingers in his ears and sang some peasant folk song (presumably to drown out Japan). England and France were at a conflict resolution session. Again. Italy chased Germany around with France's attack poodle, Fifi, on a leash (while the dogs were nothing new, Italy usually made German Shepherds follow him instead of Standard Poodles.)

Canada was, as usual, boasting about how he was The Hero of The World. Greece and Hungary were currently mediating the conflict-resolution session between England and France. China was singing at the top of her lungs (presumably to drown Canada and Japan out) while knitting presents for the rest of the Nations. She had a tendency to think of herself as the conflict-resolution person. Japan kept going on and on about Toyota, Honda, and the future of the world economy.

Just at that very moment, England, France, Greece, and Hungary walked into the room. France ran to his black standard poodle, grabbing her leash as quickly as he could. "Never do that again!" he snapped at Italy.

"I was just having _fun_, France," said Italy. Germany was trembling in the corner where he'd been backed into, shuddering as he saw the poodle.

Germany, wracked with sobs, spoke. Or, more accurately, sobbed. Nobody knew _why_ anyone kept Germany around, since he was such a wimpy nation.

France remembered World War II, in which he'd captured Italy by using Germany and Japan as bait. Ha! England had been second best, of course—he'd captured Germany, who had automatically surrendered. That was his sole military tactic. Honestly, he was kind of pathetic. "France! Thank goodness you're here! Italy can't stop tormenting me! He _knows_ I'm afraid of large dogs."

France scowled at Germany, yanked on Fifi's leash, and strode across the room. Hopefully, he could get to his seat before England went near him. If England so much as broke the terms of the restraining order America _said_ he was filing (but France wasn't sure about that; it hadn't been viewed by anyone since the 1920s), France would sic Fifi on him. He'd done that five times already, and England still had a horrible haircut from Fifi managing to chew off a couple of hair clumps.

"France, my love!" shouted England. He tried to give France a hug, and France stared blankly at him. What was this obnoxious nation doing? More to the point, why was _he _the Victim of England's Flirtatious Nature? It had been that way ever since they first met (even when they were at war with each other), and nothing seemed to change it. France had groomed Napoleon and Joan of Arc as revenge against England; it hadn't worked. Instead, he'd ended up with England hitting on him _even_ _more_.

"You disgust me in every way possible, England," said France. He muscled his way past the nation, and snarled, "Fifi! Bite England's leg!"

Fifi, instead, licked England's hand. "Oh, great. _You_ understand the conflict-resolution session with Greece and Hungary," muttered France.

"France! England! _Enough!_" bellowed America. He slammed his fists together, and maliciously sipped his tea.

"File my report, and he'll be legally bound by restraining order!" demanded France.

"Convince him that I'm no threat, America!" yelled England.


End file.
